


dark eyes and sharp knives

by KeeperofSeeds



Category: Fallen London | Echo Bazaar
Genre: Ambition: Heart's Desire (Fallen London), Blanket Permission, Carnival, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Femslash, Kissing, Knifeplay, Mrs Plenty’s Carnival (Fallen London), Nipple Play, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-23 05:47:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23506654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeeperofSeeds/pseuds/KeeperofSeeds
Summary: Two lovers meet at Mrs Plenty’s Carnival, it’s been a long while
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7
Collections: Bring Her Bleeding Heart to Me





	dark eyes and sharp knives

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saiditallbefore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/gifts).



> Written for the bring her bleeding heart to me  
> [dark femslash commentfic challenge](https://kimaracretak.dreamwidth.org/36680.html?thread=151112#cmt151112)
> 
> Prompt: fallen london/ebz, any/any, knifeplay!

The Shy Scholar hurried away from the Benthic University's library, her robes trailing in the dirt as she struggled out of them. She was not going to be late! She'd promised to be at tonight's performance and she would if she had to run through every back-alley in Spite and escape from every pickpocket there! 

Panting, and with her trousers hopeless damp all the way to the knees, the Scholar arrive at the Carnival. She pushes into the Big Top, one hand carefully pushing her purse deeper into it's pocket the other carefully pushing past a group of junior Devils gathered around the fire-breathers. And finally she's made it. The sword-swallower is giving on last bow and she steps forward. The Knife Thrower. Her dark hair is in braids tonight, and her eyes are dark in a way that makes them seem lost in the shadows or eaten by spiders. Her smile however is bright in the darkness as she bows and immediately flicks her wrist. A knife flies parallel to those of us standing and hits dead center to the target. Another and another, all hit their targets. Above the crowd and past the caged Tiger and once she pinned the overly large hat of a gentleman to the post behind him! Wild cheers broke out, the Scholar louder than all the rest. The Knife Thrower's eyes met hers in the crowd and gave a single kiss to the handle of her knife, then bowed once more before retreating. 

The Scholar retreated as well. She ducked through the crowds and quick as a mouse, slipped under the tent and out the back. She only made it a few steps before a hand grabbed hers, another wrapping around her mouth, stopping the instinctive yell of alarm. The Knife Thrower pulled her away from the tent to lean against a nearby fence. 

"I knew you wouldn't let me down," she said. "What did you think?" She flipped the same knife into the air and caught it with a smirk. 

"It was amazing!" The Scholar whispered, trying to contain her excitement. "It was like nothing I've ever seen before! You- You were"

"Yes?"

"The most beautiful woman I'veu ever seen." Her hands crept forward, pulling the Knife Thrower closer and slowly pressed their lips together. 

The Knife Throw responded with a passion, and the two stayed pressed together throughout the next act, half-hidden in the shadows behind the tent as the crowds gasp and cheer. 

The Knife Thrower drew her blade and held it gently against the Scholar’s lips and she nodded, breath heavy.   
Slowly, she drew the blade down from redded lips to chin to down further, slicing through the buttoned vest with ease. The shirt beneath she merely pulls aside, and the Scholar hurries with fumbling fingers to get it unbuttoned. Pulling it aside she’s rewarded with the sharp feel of teeth against her breast. She gasps and tastes the faint metallic sense of blood upon her lips, and she welcomes it.   
“More” she pleads and arched her back further. The Knife Thrower laugh softly, the warmth of her breath ghosting over a nipple. She brings her knife back up and drags the tip slowly, so slowly from nipple down the swell to drag harder across the dips and valleys of rib bones. Her mouth stays occupied on right breast, sucking kisses a counterpoint to the cold steel. 

The Scholar shivers and shakes in her grasp. She can feel the warm drip of blood draw jagged lines down her sides. Oh how she’d missed this. She pulls the Knife Thrower up, forcing their hips closer, and gropes past the woman’s costume, to take her belt and use it for leverage. She grinds lower and the Knife Thrower’s mouth clashes against hers blood and lust making their kisses messy and imperfect, but her free hand comes to kneed and pinch at the Scholar’s nipple and she’s lost, shaking apart with a high whine that hopefully is lost in the noise from the crowd. 

The Knife Thrower chuckles, low and soft against her throat, trailing lingering kisses up her jaw. “I didn’t realize you’d missed me this much.”

“Of course I did! After all the commotion and the fight in that honey den, I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again!”

The Knife Thrower pulled back to smile, more rakish than ever in her costume. “You know me. I’m a survivor.”

A gong chimes nearby, and her head turns to follow the time.   
“Aaaand I’m also an entertainer. My next show won’t be long now. So, you’re going to have to return the favor another time.”

“Meet me later tonight,” the Scholar blurts out. “I have a place, outside the college, near the marshes. Meet me there?”

“It’s a date,” the Knife Thrower agreed, and with a wink and a slow lascivious lick to her knife, she was gone, back into the whirl of the carnival, leaving the formerly Shy Scholar to wipe the blood from her face and wrap her coat so as to hide the state of her vest. She hadn’t felt so alive in ages! Not since the time the Department of Palaeomycology had managed to accidentally release toxic spores throughout the east wing. To feel her blood pumping, to see the stains it left behind. To know this was Real. She couldn’t wait to return the favor. 


End file.
